


Stay

by miscreant_rose



Series: A Jolly Good Ship [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-04
Updated: 2015-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-21 04:17:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3677145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscreant_rose/pseuds/miscreant_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a fic written for scribblecat27's birthday celebration, and based on those BTS shots for episode 4.17 (Best Laid Plans) that for months had the fandom wondering and flailing.  My fingers slipped and this happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblecat27](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=scribblecat27).



**_Stay_ **

“Hook?”

She tries to ignore how lost her voice sounds in the cold air of the docks, drowned among the rhythmic slap of waves on hulls, the creak of wooden planks shifting, the harsh metallic clang of rigging shifting in the wind.  She listens again, hoping for some sound of movement, of him from inside the ship as she hesitates by the railing, scared to even reach out and touch it.  This was his, his home, his everything, and she was too alone right now, too frightened to barge in without an invitation.

She takes another breath, trying to find some small scrap of strength to put behind her voice as she calls out.

“Killian?”

Of course her voice breaks, and she steps back a little, already knowing there isn’t going to be an answer.  She looks beyond the mast of the Jolly to where the moon is tracing a silvery line against the horizon.  It is teasing her, that emptiness tugging at her, at the nothingness she wants right now.  

All she wants right now is to run, to find someway to that spot in the middle of nowhere that is safe enough for her as her soul shatters into a million pieces again.  Someplace away, someplace she can try and maybe put the pieces back together again, to find once more those walls she was stupid enough to let down. Someplace where she can dash aside all senseless notions like hope and belief and thinking she could ever truly have a home she could trust.  

The bench is cold, seeping through the denim of her jeans, mixing with the chill already taking over her bones, but she can’t even shiver.  She’s too focused on trying to find a way out, trying to ignore the gnawing tug that tells her to be still to find a place to stay.  She shakes her head at her thoughts, letting out a breath that pushes down the sting of tears again.  It is if her life has been on repeat, an endless loop of thinking she had found a home, only to be betrayed once again.  Only this time it was by those she had always tried to hold on to some glimmer of hope for as she bounced from foster home to foster home.  Part of her always wanted to believe there had been a reason, some noble gesture behind her being cast aside.  And until a few hours ago, she had convinced herself there had been.  

But now it was all too clear.  It had never been about her having a chance for have a better life.  No, she was shoved aside, shoved away because she was a key, something to come back and break a curse and give them all their happy endings back.  But what about hers?  What about her happy beginning or in between?  She was just some necessary ingredient, a means to an end.  Those twenty-eight years never existed for them.  They only had the worry for a few minutes before everything was zapped into no memories at all.  No one ever thought about her in all that time, ever worried, ever wondered how she was doing.  She truly had always been all alone and abandoned.  How could she possibly think they could ever understand, that they could ever regret?  Why should they regret?  Just as they needed, she showed up on schedule and poof, everything was back to being how it was, the worries over a daughter sent away on her own existing for a few mere heartbeats.  

And yet for her, it had been nothing but an endless heartache.  And everything since arriving here, all of it was crumbling away in the face of doubts over who and what she really was.  Even the crazy jumble of memories of a life — a _good_ life — with Henry were fading despite her nightly attempts to hold on to them.  They only thing that ever seemed to be real for her was the hollow sense of being alone.

“Swan?”

His voice startles her to her feet, her reason for running here to the docks coming back to her.  But as she looks at him and the wary expression on his face at finding her here, all those doubts and insecurities begin to weave their way in, the first foundations to those walls she had let down.

“Emma, love, whats wrong?”

The caress of his voice isn’t what she expects, nor is his hand reaching out for hers, ring-heavy fingers soothing over her chilled ones.  She watches him, trying to find some truth in his face, something beyond the concern in his eyes.  It takes her a couple panicked heartbeats to realize there is no guile, no seeing her for anything other than what she has always been in his eyes.  

One step, and she is pressed against him, burying her face against his neck, arms wrapping around him, body trembling as she gives in to this one place of shelter.  She barely registers his breath hitch in surprise before his arms pull her closer, a gentle rocking not unlike the rise and fall of a ships deck beneath her feet chasing the cold out of her soul.

“Aye, love, it’s all right.”  

His murmured words are warm against her temple as his hand comes up to cradle her head.  She has to force another shaking breath from her lungs to fight back the tears threatening to rise once more.  Her hand tugs at the edge of his jacket, curling into a fist, as her other grips harder at the material across his back.  Her palm burns, itches again, remembering on its own how his heart had felt cradled there.  She had held a piece of him, his very soul there.  Now all she wishes she could do is push herself inside his skin, to vanish, find someplace closer, even warmer than as tight as he was holding her right now.

Maybe this was her one safe spot, that her instinct to run had lead her here for a reason.  Heat begins to rise up in her again, melting away her rush of rage, leaving nothing but a fragile exhaustion in its place.  She doesn’t know how long it is before his voice is warm against her again.

“If you need a place to stay —”

She nods against him before lifting her head to meet his gaze.  “For now at least,” she manages in a slightly steady voice.

“For as long as you ever need, love.”  His thumb brushes across her cheeks, wiping away a dampness she didn’t realize was there.  

Still tight against his side, she lets her head fall against his shoulder, glancing up at the star-filled sky suddenly warm in a winter wind as she lets him lead her aboard the Jolly once more.

 

 

 


End file.
